


Christmas Morning

by OnceUponaFangirl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Christmas Morning, F/M, Fluff, Non-Graphic Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 15:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12843993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceUponaFangirl/pseuds/OnceUponaFangirl
Summary: Emma and Killian celebrate Christmas together and exchange gifts.





	Christmas Morning

**Author's Note:**

> So it's (almost) December 2017 and I wrote this in December of 2016 for Captain Swan Secret Santa. I just realized that I never posted it on here. It's fluff with a hint of sexytimes and a lot of feelings. I hope you all like it. This is in a universe where season 6 and anything after does not exist.

She wakes to cold sheets, searching the wrinkles of cotton for the warmth of her lover. When she doesn’t find her treasure, she blinks open her eyes to red pointed numbers that read 5:00. The room is blanketed in darkness, save for the strip of light shining through the cracked door. Any other day, she might furrow her brows at his early disappearance, worry scratching at her chest at what might have gone amiss during the night. But now there’s a peace that settles deep in her belly and a smile curls her lips.  “Killian?”

She finds him kneeling in front of the tree in their living room. “I might not quite understand the tradition, but there is something magical about it.”

“Yeah, it’s called electricity.” she teases. They had opted for a real Christmas tree, deep green and full of thick firs. It’s decorated in gold and red ribbons, both clear and colored lights reflecting off the surface of ornaments. The question of clear or colored lights had emerged at Thanksgiving, with Henry stressing the significance of setting precedents for Killian’s first Christmas - their first Christmas as a family. Apparently, it was of the utmost importance that they have colored lights. In the end, Emma settled for both, with some cheesy line about having both traditions to make up for lost time.

She’s always loved the glow of a tree in a dark room, the lights illuminating the space in the simplistic magic of her world, making anywhere feel a little more like a home. She’s come so far since orphanages that didn’t want her, since thievery and sky high walls. Her gaze lingers on Killian, still kneeling at the base of the tree, rearranging the pile of presents that surround it. His OCD has not been the kindest friend to the hustle and bustle of the holiday season and the mess that is their house, but it’s been quiet lately. The chaos of Storybrooke has slowed, actually allowing them to enjoy the holiday season. (And enjoy it they have.) Their house is evidence of such, with a gingerbread house in the corner of their countertop, garland wrapped around the stair-railings, and pictures littering the walls. It’s lived in and loved. And as she watches her lover stand to face her, a boyish, slightly embarrassed grin that curves his dimples, she can’t help the warmth that floods her chest. He is hers to love and this is her home.  _He_  is her home.

“Ha ha, very funny, Swan.” With the flick of her wrist, she lights fire across from them. He looks even more attractive in the firelight, embers highlighting the tint of red in his scruff that he tries to hide. There’s an ease at which he strides over to her, wrapping his stumped arm around her waist to pull her closer. “And you, my love, look very sleepy. What has you up this early Christmas morning? And without that coffee you’re addicted to?”

“Well, I woke up cold and so I had to see where my human heater went.” He smiles at that - the mischievous one where he quirks his brow. It’s not an inquisition, not quite. Instead it’s a confession, albeit small, of how he fits so perfectly in her life even in the little nuances, combating her cold-blooded nature with his warm one.

She swears his eyes are bluest in the wee hours of the morning, the day not having stolen their light with its little frustrations. He’s more relaxed, as is she, absentmindedly leaning into one another’s touch, content to bask in the warmth of the fire at their side.  She could stay like this forever, but she knows their time is limited. Henry and the rest of her family will be over in just under four hours and if last night’s activities were any indication of their focus, they really should spend that time making sure the house is ready for their guests. “And what about you, pirate?”

“Just a few finishing touches on something. Nothing to concern yourself with.”

“Mmhmm. Would this something have anything to do with the fact that there’s a new present underneath the tree?”

“Is that really the first present you want to unwrap, Swan?”

The insinuation isn’t lost on her, his words igniting a heat that curls inside, demanding in its familiarity. Damn the responsibilities that await. She wraps her arms around his neck, cold fingers carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I can’t say that it is. Warm me up?”

It’s in moments like these, with his lips on hers and tongues mingling together, that she understands the meaning of enraptured - the dance of skin against skin sending tingles that tighten at her core. He walks her back to the couch, mouth moving to suck a mark at the curve of her neck. His touch is her undoing as he leaves her bare, kissing and tasting and sucking until their hips are rocking together and she lets go. He follows suit, cries of her name and the feel of him surrounding her the only thing she knows.  

She’s not sure how long they lay there after, lazily wrapped around each other with kiss swollen lips. She feels sated and warm, on the verge of falling back into slumber as he kisses a trail down her shoulder, when she hears him whisper her name. “Swan?”

“Yeah?”

“I’d like to give you your gift before your parents get here.”

“Mmkay. Me too. Just let me…” She rises to search for her discarded pajamas, slipping them back on, before sifting through the presents to find the one she was looking for - it’s thick rectangular shape distinguishing it from the others. Killian does the same, reaching for the small box she had teased him about earlier.

“You first.” His voice is shakey, lacking in it’s earlier rush. Her eyebrow rises in curiosity and she goes back to the couch to sit as she unwraps the box, shredding through the wrapping paper despite it’s precise packaging. “Killian” she gasps, her heart stopping in her chest at the simplistic ring in her palm.

“I’ve lived a very long time, longer than I deserve. And you, Emma Swan, have been the best part of my life. You’ve brought me so much happiness, showing me how to love again and how to love myself. I know marriage is just a formality for us, not even death can separate us. But it’s a formality I want. With you. Emma Swan, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

“Yes, god yes.” She leans down to kiss him, lips crashing with the fervor she can feel building in the tears behind her eyelids. Around her, it feels like the world is spinning, reality altered in its perfection. When he pulls away. his smile is the brightest she’s ever seen it.

“I just got you a stupid book. It’s a nice book, but-”

“Show it to me.”

She wipes the tears from her eyes, though it does not stop their flow, before handing him his gift.  Her voice cracks as she explains tells him the leatherbound book’s contents. “I know you get really confused with the Disney references, so this has all the stories in it - Walt Disney’s versions. But I added our story in the back. It’s a little different from Henry’s version cause I wrote it and put pictures next to it, magicked them into existence, and it’s not as G rated as the rest of the book, but…”

“I love it. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Her gaze falls to the ring sitting on her left hand hand, turning it to see the way it catches the light.

It’s beautiful.  “We’re engaged. We’re gonna get married.”

“Aye, we are.”

“Merry Christmas, Killian.”

“Merry Christmas, Emma.”


End file.
